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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491789">Fuck my heart, hope to die</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yassoda/pseuds/Yassoda'>Yassoda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Major Character Injury, Misogyny, Neglect, Post Season 2, Pre Season 3, Racism, Recreational Drug Use, Use of the n word</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:42:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26491789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yassoda/pseuds/Yassoda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve notices Billy missing school, he tries to think nothing of it.<br/>He fails.<br/>He ends up sticking his nose in something unexpected, somewhat sad, somewhat dangerous, but ultimately good.<br/>Like Steve needs more danger in his life.</p><p>---</p><p>A lot of Billy's life being shitty, and Steve's life being shitty, and them dealing with that however they can.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please take note of the tags, as they contain potential triggers.<br/>After reading, please tell me if I've missed any tags.</p><p>This fic is dear to me, it really took a life of its own. I started out trying to write smut, and this happened: No smut, just pain. 😂</p><p>Thank you to<br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/assuwatar/pseuds/assuwatar">assuwatar</a> and  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowquill17">shadowquill17</a> for proof-reading this for me! &lt;3 Check them out ^^</p><p>And please, enjoy! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Billy Hargrove is not <i>playful</i>, despite what the common opinion in school seems to be. His aggressive attitude is not just for show, his jutting chin, blazing eyes and power-strut aren't just for the attention. Everything about him exudes danger. Any bird with half a brain can see that.</p><p>Then again, maybe it's not a problem with their brain, Carol muses as she witnesses three wanna-be Sandra Dees hanging off Billy's jean-clad body. Maybe it's just a lack of experience. They don't yet realize a guy like him doesn't see them as people, but as flesh-sacks. They don't yet realize he's the type of guy who won't care if you're not ready, if it hurts, if you change your mind. He'll force you. He'll hurt you. Carol knows his type, intimately. They're everywhere, usually much less obvious than Billy Hargrove, and they're the reason she won't ever let go of Tommy. Tommy may be a dick, he may be mean, he may be thick sometimes, but Tommy won't ever hurt her. He'd kill himself before harming her in any way, and he'd die before letting anyone else touch her.<br/>
Still. As he struts away, leaving excitedly twittering birds to enthuse about him, Carol can admit there is one good thing about Billy Hargrove. His spectacular ass.</p>
<hr/><p>Steve Harrington has more than half a brain. He knows Billy is dangerous, he's experienced it first-hand. After the whole mess with the mind-flayer and demodogs, Steve's worst injuries weren't from other-worldly monsters with too many teeth, but from the violent lash-out of an unarmed seventeen-year-old boy. His face was swollen for days, and some bruises took weeks to fade, and when his mother, a couple months later, realized he was missing a tooth and forced him to the dentist, it turned out the tooth was only partially knocked-out and that the remaining bits had caused an infection, which was why it hurt so much to chew. It was a bitch to have the dentist digging in his gums to pry the last remains of shattered bone out.<br/>
And Steve knows, he <i>knows</i> that, that night, Billy would not have stopped hitting him until it was too late. Max knew that too. The other kids didn't fully realize it, bless them, but Max had actually saved Steve's life. Not that Billy would've <i>meant</i> to kill him, but at that point in the fight, it wasn't about Steve anymore. It wasn't about Max sneaking out. It was about something else, darker, deeper, ugly, something that drives Billy mad, that turns him into a seething, crazy mess, and that made him forget or not care that the thing he was hitting could actually be killed.<br/>
And that is scary. It's terrifying to share classes, to play sports, to exist in the same space as a person who, when sufficiently angered, will go unhinged and lash out in the most violent ways, unafraid of consequences, numb to pain. It's difficult to pretend that the memory of Billy's fists pounding his face in isn't haunting him, to pretend that he isn't afraid that <i>something</i> will unleash that fury on him again, or worse, on someone else, someone even weaker. Someone who doesn't stand the slightest chance (not that Steve stands a chance, but that isn't the point).</p><p>Yet, despite all that, Steve feels for Billy something more, something that isn't fear, that isn't hatred. It might well be pity. He keeps an eye on Billy, keeps track of his movements, to make sure he isn't getting near anyone Steve holds dear, and also, perhaps, to try and understand. Because Billy is only seventeen. And a small part of Steve refuses to believe that someone can be doomed so young.</p>
<hr/><p>Things are calmer at home, now that Billy leaves her alone. Max doesn't think it's because of her threats, though. Sure, Billy had been scared of her at the time, when she was actively wielding a nail-studded baseball bat, and threatening to crush his dick and rip it to shreds. That's why he stopped. Well, that and the sedative. Max made him stop, and it makes her feel really good knowing she can stand up to him, that she's done it, that it's possible. But she thinks there's another reason her step-brother is acting so subdued. It's like, he realizes this time went too far. He realizes he almost killed someone. And Max knows Billy is crazy, and does dangerous stuff, and doesn't care about anyone else, but it looks like this time it hit him. Hit him closer than any slap or punch Neil has ever given him. He almost. Killed. Someone. And he was only stopped, <i>saved</i>, because his "dumb little step-fuck" threatened to castrate him. Yeah.</p><p>Then again, maybe that's not it at all. Maybe he's just laying low, plotting his revenge. Maybe he wanted to kill Steve Harrington, and he's pissed Max took that away from him, but he's hiding it so she'll let her guard down and hand him an opportunity for payback.<br/>
Hell if Max knows.</p>
<hr/><p>A long drag in. Hold it. Let the smoke burn his lungs. Blow it out slowly.<br/>
The figure next to him curls around him, an invitation to cuddle. He pushes it away. The bitch sighs, and sits up instead.</p><p>"Before I leave," her clear voice almost makes Billy startle, "I want to know. Will you ever want to do this with me again?"</p><p>Billy finally looks at her. She has brown curls that fall to just above her breasts. The breasts are full and heavy, matched by the pudge she has on the rest of her body. Billy knows, sees, that she's pretty, that she's sexy, but the sight of her makes him sick. Also, she's asking questions, and Billy's not in the mood.</p><p>Fat cow.</p><p>"Listen doll, I told you not to get attached." He shrugs, nonchalant. "Maybe I'll want you again, maybe not. Who can fucking tell."</p><p>Probably not. Done it once and all that.</p><p>He rises up and pulls his jeans on, picks up her bra and flings it at her. She looks hurt. Like he gives a shit.</p><p>His music is blaring, he's looking at himself in the mirror, fussing at his hair and drinking hard liquor as the bitch leaves. He can almost pretend she was never here.</p><p>Except he still has a smudge of red lipstick on his collarbone. And all he can picture is blood.</p><p>Billy did <i>not</i> actually want to kill Steve Harrington. Billy couldn't live with himself if he killed someone. He just couldn't. It's visceral, the way his body reacts when he thinks of what he's almost done. He feels physically ill. Steve Harrington is a weak, arrogant, overrated pansy, but <i>nothing</i> in Steve Harrington justifies that beating. It was just...</p><p>
  <i>Stupid Harrington and his stupid pretty face, and his perfect little life, it's that black kid's fault Max sneaked out and his father beat him up, and Billy had to miss his date and get groped by some cougar, and if Steve won't let him give that kid what's coming to him, well Steve's gonna take it for him.<br/>
The pain of punches just serves to detach Billy's mind from his body, and detach him from his actions, in a way that leaves him light-headed and makes the world bright and somewhat blurry. He pushes down the sickness blows always bring to his gut, and hits back, hard, satisfying crunch against his knuckles, red, pain, how dare he hit him, he hasn't done anything lately, it's Max he should punish, Max and her stupid fucking friends, if Neil found out she's hanging with a black kid he'd be so mad, it won't be just a slap, and fucking Steve Harrington doesn't even know what it's like to be hated by his own dad, to be worthless, to be —</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>Steve can't pinpoint when his sole purpose in life became... fucking surveillance. His school time is split between watching Nancy and Jonathan, pretending he doesn't want to cry, and watching Billy Hargrove, pretending his initial pity hasn't transformed into concern at the smattering of bruises regularly covering the guy's body. Needless to say his grades go down again. And whenever he has free time, he finds himself spending it with the kids. He's not complaining, he actually seeks them out, now. There's something about their energy, their optimism, the way they bounced back from the whole ordeal with monsters and shit that makes Steve feel better. It's nice to see not everything was fucked up by the upside-down. And Dustin is frankly hilarious. Steve needs to laugh. It helps.<br/>
But even with the kids, he's on the lookout. He scans them for wounds, for unusual behaviors, for signs of something wrong. His eyes are constantly searching for the problem, the thing that will ruin everything again, the new monster. It's exhausting. But he can't stop.</p><p>One day, a Wednesday, Billy Hargrove doesn't come to school. And Steve is relieved at first. No need to keep an eye on him. No need to feel weary. It's a low-stress day for once, and those are rare.<br/>
But then, Billy is absent the next day as well, and Steve shouldn't care but he feels in his gut like something is off. Maybe Billy's sick or something, or maybe he's just playing hooky. Yeah. Steve berates himself for even noticing, and swears not to care anymore.<br/>
But Billy isn't back the next week. And Steve cracks.</p><p>"Hey Max?" he calls out to the girl as he picks up Dustin and Lucas, before she can ride away on her skateboard.</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Need a ride?"</p><p>Max hesitates.</p><p>"I ask 'cause Billy hasn't been to school in a while, so..."</p><p>"Yeah he can't drive right now," offers Max.</p><p>She gets in the car, encouraged by Lucas, and he and Dustin scoot to accommodate her in the back seat.</p><p>"Why can't he drive?" casually asks Steve, starting the car.</p><p>"He fell," is the cryptic answer.</p><p>And Max is not looking at him. Again, a feeling in Steve's gut tells him something here is not right.</p><p>"He fell? How?" he probes, glancing in his rear-view mirror.</p><p>Max just shrugs. Yeah. Something isn't right.</p><p>"Well, I'll drop the boys off first then drive you home, 'cause I have to give some homework to Billy. That all right?"</p><p>"No you can't see him," immediately snaps Max. "... I mean, he won't want to see you."</p><p>She looks scared. And she doesn't usually look scared around Steve. He drops it.</p><p>He'll find another way to quench the restless urge he has to find out how Billy is doing.</p>
<hr/><p>Everything hurts.<br/>
His face is battered, lips split, eyes swollen shut. He can barely move without feeling keen, debilitating pain in his back, and his right arm is broken in two places.</p><p>"He fell. Horse riding."</p><p>The hospital believed that. Billy doesn't know if it's because horse riding is actually hardcore, or if they're too underpaid to care about some punk getting beaten up by his dad.</p><p>His arm is in a cast, he is bed-ridden and "grounded" apparently, not that he can move anyway. And he's slowly going crazy from being alone. He can't blare his music, the headache it gives him is unbearable and his speakers are busted, he can't drink, it burns too much (and he's on painkillers). He can still smoke though. So he does. Endlessly. Ash covers his chest and bed. Everything reeks.</p><p>Susan is the only one who seems to care. She helps him go piss three times a day, and brings him food, and treats his wounds, and remakes his bed. She comes home from work at noon, special for him. Billy feels some gratitude, but mostly humiliation. His dad's whore doesn't think he can fend for himself? Fuck her. And maybe Billy <i>will</i> fuck her one day, when he's better. See what his dad'll do about that, being cucked by his own son. That'd be a riot.</p><p>The beating had been unavoidable. Neil was piss-drunk, and Billy wasn't exactly sober. Neil wanted some "goddamn peace and quiet," and Billy was looking for a fight. He wanted some form of revenge, against everyone at the same time.</p><p>"Turn that shit off!" Neil had yelled, referring to Billy's music.</p><p>"Why you always yelling at me?! Huh? Max is making that infernal squeaking with her board, I have to drown it out somehow!"</p><p>Neil had slapped. Billy had grit his teeth.</p><p>"Don't you dare talk back to me! Max is Susan's to deal with and you will show all of us some goddamn respect!"</p><p>"Yeah well maybe Susan should do her job better, seeing who Max's been hanging out with."</p><p>"Shut up!" Max had squealed from elsewhere in the house.</p><p>Susan had whisked her away. Wise woman. Don't distract the boar when it already has a prey.</p><p>"Don't you badmouth your sister you worthless little shit," Neil had spat, shoving Billy against a wall, toppling his speakers over.</p><p>The music had started sounding wonky and jerky, then. A wire had moved.</p><p>"My sister," Billy had spat back with as much venom as he could muster. "My sister, the tomboy, who hangs out with n*ggers. You didn’t like that when I did it, you fu—"</p><p>The real beating had started then. Neil probably hadn't even understood Billy's words, but the reaction was well ingrained by this point. And if he had understood, he was too drunk to remember the next day why exactly he had started whaling on his son.</p><p>From that point on, Billy doesn't remember much either.</p>
<hr/><p>Steve, by now, knows he's crazy, and doesn't care anymore. He needs to see Billy Hargrove. He wasn't able to sleep all night, obsessing over the other boy. It isn't healthy. It isn't normal. And Steve can absolutely not talk about it with anyone. He goes to school in the morning, because he has gym and he can't skip gym. He eats his lunch in the cafeteria, like everyone else, but when it's time to head back to class, Steve doesn't. He takes advantage of the confusion that comes with students heading in different directions at the same time to sneak out and away, trying to seem innocent. He's almost made it when he gets caught by the collar.<br/>
"Ah ah ah, Mr. Harrington, back at playing hooky are we? I thought you were suspiciously absent from detention these last few weeks."</p><p>"Mr. Shooks, er, it's not what you think, sir. I have English right now and I forgot my book in my car; I'm just popping out to get it."</p><p>The lie is smooth. It just rolls off his tongue convincingly, like the endless "I'm fine"s he's been telling everyone. Steve grins for good measure, his most charming and sincere smile.</p><p>"Fine, but be quick. If you're not in class on time you will be getting that detention."</p><p>Steve is released. He doesn't need to be told twice. He heads out briskly, like he's a responsible young man (ha!) and gets to his car.</p><p>The screeching of his tires during his speedy departure alerts Mr. Shooks of Steve's disobedience. But it's too late now; Steve is gone.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <i>I want to die I want to die I want to die I want to die I want to die</i>
</p><p>The mantra is ringing in Billy’s mind, following the rhythm of his pounding head. The thought’s been creeping through his boredom, and without music, there’s nothing to escape to.</p><p>Billy is so lost in his own head he only opens his eyes when someone clears their throat.</p><p>Who?</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing here?!” he spits, when he recognizes Steve Harrington through his swollen eyelids.</p><p>He tries to stand up to deck him, but his back spasms in pain, and he collapses back on the bed with a groan.</p><p>“Damn. What happened to you?” Harrington asks, setting a stack of papers on Billy’s dresser.</p><p>“None of your fucking business!” Billy snaps with as much venom as he can muster. “How did you get in?!”</p><p>Harrington shrugs, hands in his pockets. His eyes are roaming all over Billy’s body and a small crease has formed between his eyebrows.</p><p>“The back door wasn’t locked. But really, who did this to you?”</p><p>He asked who. Fuck.</p><p>“I fell. Horse riding.”</p><p>Harrington scoffs, but it’s mirthless.</p><p>“Bullshit. That,” he points at Billy’s face, “is from punches. I should know. You gave me the same.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” Billy dismisses. “Why are you here?”</p><p>It’s a testament to how shit he’s feeling that he’s decided to talk to Harrington instead of threatening him.</p><p>Harrington makes a vague movement to indicate the papers he had with him.</p><p>“I brought your homework.”</p><p>“Bullshit,” Billy echoes. He closes his eyes and leans back. “You’ve come to laugh at me, that’s fine. Figures, since you’re a little bitch. When I’m back I’ll tear you apart, so laugh it up while you still can.”</p><p>“That’s not why.”</p><p>Billy opens his eyes again. He’s not all that smart but he can read people all right. Harrington wants something.</p><p>Billy doesn’t speak. He has no clue what Harrington could want from <i>him</i>, especially right now, but if he’s gonna beg, Billy’ll take it. Might make him feel better about himself. Plus Steve is getting more and more worked up, fidgeting, squirming, blushing, which is more entertaining than it has any right to be.</p>
<hr/><p>The silence drags on for too long.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p>Steve knows he can’t just say he was... concerned. It would be mortifying, and Billy might even take it as a taunt. He scuffs his shoe against the hardwood floor, and shoves one hand through his hair. Fuck.</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead,” he shoots, voice as careless as he can make it. “Gotta keep tabs on my basketball rival.”</p><p>A blatant lie. Billy’s not going anywhere in basketball, and everyone knows it. He’s too aggressive to play in official games, and while the coach is hopeful, and focuses on Billy during training, Steve is still the star player in actual matches.</p><p>Shockingly, the bedridden teen barks out a sharp laugh. It’s followed by a painful groan, and a tentative hand he rests on his ribs, but he still eyes Steve with humor.</p><p>“Fine, don’t tell me. Now get the fuck out of my room.”</p><p>Steve sneers and does a quick mocking bow, which he regrets instantly because it was lame and made no sense, then leaves. He can’t go back to school now, so he spends the rest of the afternoon driving around town before picking up the kids. He’s not sure if him seeing Billy went well or not, but a weight has been lifted from his chest. Billy’s not dead at least.</p>
<hr/><p>Billy, despite his physical condition evolving slowly as ever, seems better somehow. Susan notices how his mood isn’t as bad, when she gets home to tend to him; he isn’t simmering in silent rage as much as he did in the first few weeks. Maybe the fact he can sit up alone now is what’s cheering him up.<br/>
Susan knows better than to ask.<br/>
Billy is Neil’s problem, and Max is hers. Susan makes sure these terms in her relationship are respected, to protect her daughter. Sadly, this means there isn’t much she can do for her stepson, and taking care of him during his recovery helps her fight down her guilt.<br/>
She loves Neil, she truly does, and he has his reasons to react the way he does. But still. She’ll help the boy where she can. She ignores the new cigarette packs that appear, unexplained. She ignores the signs of entry through their bushes, and kicks a moat of dirt into what could be a footprint. She won’t pry. Not prying is sometimes for the best.</p>
<hr/><p>It’s stupid, and Billy blames being knocked too hard in the head one too many times. It made him weak, made him lower his guard. Made him see how soft Steve is, made him unable to spit on that like he would if he were well. If he were himself. He doesn’t need friends, doesn’t <i>want</i> them.<br/>
But still.<br/>
Harrington coming over most days is not that bad.</p><p>The second time, when Billy sees who it is, he wants to throw him out, stop all that budding camaraderie bullshit, but Steve has a peace offering. Some fags, and some weed. The fags are appreciated, Billy’s almost out. The weed is incredible. Really lifts his spirits. And again, he can’t quite spit on that.<br/>
So Steve stays, and smokes with him. Billy tries to convince himself that it’s an unwanted intrusion, but the smoking has mellowed him somewhat, and he has to admit, Steve isn’t all that bad.</p><p>Truth is, it feels good not to be so lonely for once.</p><p>After that first time, it just keeps happening. Steve usually doesn’t have weed, he even comes empty-handed a few times, but Billy finds he doesn’t mind. The companionship, and smoking a cigarette together, is enough. It goes on for weeks, Steve skipping school every other afternoon, replenishing Billy’s cigarette stash. They talk, too. Not much, nothing deep, but enough to start appreciating each other some.</p><p>Enough for Billy to see how smart and sweet and good Steve really is.<br/>
Enough for him to work past the automatic hatred he feels when someone is so much better than him.<br/>
Enough for him to recognize that Steve’s perfect golden little life is as lonely as Billy’s, and really not as great as it seems.<br/>
Enough for him to really notice Steve, Steve the person, not Harrington the basketball King. Just Steve. Kind Steve. Pretty Steve.</p><p>Enough for Billy to start <i>feeling</i> things he knows he really shouldn’t.</p>
<hr/><p>Seeing Billy becomes the highlight of Steve’s days, and he doesn’t even feel bad about it anymore. Under the coarse tough-boy act is a witty, sharp and funny person. Steve just hopes the guy he was able to coax out won’t just evaporate once Billy can leave his room... which will be any day now. They’ve been practicing standing up and walking. The arm is still broken but his back is heaps better.</p><p>Feeling their time together trickle down, Steve becomes a bit more reckless. He skips most days now, half days, and he knows consequences are gonna fall on him, soon and hard.</p><p>But he doesn’t care.</p><p>“Steady, dude. Just a few more steps and you can sit again.”</p><p>“Don’t talk to me like I’m a toddler, asshole.”</p><p>Steve just snorts and adjusts his hold on Billy’s good arm. What would have been considered a punch-worthy insult just a few weeks prior has become banter.</p><p>Steve kinda likes it.</p><p>He helps Billy sit on the edge of his bed, and flops next to him.</p><p>“You made it,” he praises, in a half-mocking tone.</p><p>Billy wrinkles his nose at him, in the semblance of a sneer, and pokes hard at Steve’s soft side.</p><p>“I sure fucking did, so where’s my reward, pretty boy?”</p><p>Steve yelps and grabs at Billy’s prodding finger, trying to save his ribs from the ruthless attack.</p><p>“Ahahow! Sorry dude, the weed’s all gone.”</p><p>They’d smoked the last of Steve’s stash two days ago, and he hasn’t been able to replenish it yet.<br/>
Billy clicks his tongue in exaggerated disappointed disgust.</p><p>“Cigarette?” Steve offers, flicking a packet open in Billy’s direction.</p><p>The other boy rolls his eyes but takes one nonetheless.</p><p>“How original. Way to shake things up, Harrington.”</p><p>“Hey, if you’re not grateful...” says Steve, grabbing at the cigarette.</p><p>He manages to snatch it, and smugly looks at Billy, holding it out of reach. Billy glares half-heartedly, his hand still poised next to his mouth.</p><p>“Give that back you dick.”</p><p>“Ah, what’s the magic word?” Steve sing-songs, with a shit-eating grin.</p><p>Billy tackles him.</p>
<hr/><p>They fall back on the bed, Billy over Steve, and he knows Steve really isn’t fighting back at all. His hands are holding Billy’s shoulders, gentle and firm, keeping him at some distance but also supporting him, like Steve’s been doing all along, without Billy having to ask, cigarette and past sins forgotten on the crumpled bedsheets.</p><p>Billy’s heart is beating so hard it almost hurts.<br/>
He knows his face is red, too. The things he’s feeling would ensure that. And he’d try to squash those feelings, to lash out to hide them, to say something mean. Make sure they’re never fulfilled.</p><p>But it’s Steve. He can’t.</p><p>And he can’t stop staring at his beautiful face.</p><p>He knows it’s wrong. He knows it’s dangerous. He knows he’s sick, but he really wants to kiss Steve. And Billy’s used to taking what he wants.</p><p>He leans down, putting his good hand on the bed, so it’ll support him, and Steve lets him do it. Lets their faces get close, their noses almost touch.</p><p>“What?” he whispers softly, face open, surprised, so vulnerable. And Billy knows Steve’s been thinking about this too.</p><p>Intrusively ugly, Neils’ voice echoes in Billy’s brain, <i>filthy faggot, useless, degenerate, I’ll kill you</i>, but it’s chased away by one of Steve’s hands suddenly cupping his face, and leading their mouthes towards one another.</p><p>They kiss.</p><p>It doesn’t help Billy’s heart slow down.<br/>
The exhilaration of finally kissing someone he really actually likes again, along with the spike of adrenaline at doing something that’s such a huge fuck you to society, send tingles all over his body, and he can’t help but grin widely, his face still pressed against Steve’s. They’re not really kissing anymore, just smiling against each other’s mouthes, and Steve snorts, and shifts, and leans, and they roll over some, both lying on their side now, breath short, blushing, staring into each other’s eyes.</p><p>“I fucking knew you were a pansy,” Billy quips, failing to muster any venom.</p><p>Steve snorts.</p><p>“Takes one to know one, babe,” he says, his grin still stupidly wide.</p><p>Billy can’t pretend he doesn’t like Steve calling him ‘babe’, so instead of retaliating, he presses his lips hard against Steve’s.</p><p>There’s a lot more making out and physical contact in the next few days, and Billy’s ready to burst with it, with how alive and hopeful it makes him feel.</p><p>Of course, it was too good to last.</p>
<hr/><p>Friday, one hour after class ends. Abraham Shooks leads one red-faced Steven Harrington out of his office by the ear. All the while, he is lecturing.</p><p>“... this is <i>not</i> how you’ll get into a decent college, young man! I’ve written to your parents, and will meet with them at their earliest convenience. You had better clean up your act before the end of the semester, or you’ll be having detention with me every day of the week until break, am I clear?”</p><p>Steve barely chokes out a pained “yessir” before he is propelled forwards into the empty hallway.</p><p>“I don’t <i>want</i> to do this again, but mark my words, I will if you keep skipping class. Now get!”</p><p>Steve doesn’t linger around, and scrambles away, out of the school. He gets to his car, and pauses to give his behind a tentative rub. The wooden paddle recommended by the Hawkins Board of Education is no fucking joke. Steve grimaces, and gingerly gets in the driver’s seat.</p><p>His fingers tap at the steering wheel while he hesitates. He doesn’t want to go home yet.<br/>
He missed the kids for today, but Billy might still be alone at his house. Steve’s heart starts beating faster at the thought, and he smiles, a soft, private smile. Won’t hurt to drive by and check.</p><p>Things have been good with Billy. Steve thought it might become tense or weird after that first kiss, but the physical and emotional intimacy just came naturally. Billy still tenses, and still shoves Steve away sometimes, needing space, but he doesn’t need to posture anymore, and that is absolutely lovely.<br/>
Steve is very careful not to leave any evidence of their relationship in Billy’s room and on Billy’s body, but – and it sends a thrill through Steve’s heart to think about it – Billy has no such qualms. Steve’s parents aren’t there to notice the love-bites and hickeys anyways, and it just confirms to the guys at school that Steve is skipping class to get with some girl.</p><p>Losing themselves in each other is a way to shut out the horrors of the world for a short while. No dad, no monsters, no college applications. And that way they can share the burden of being alive.</p><p>As Steve slows the car to get a look at the Hargrove driveway, he hears angry sounds coming from Billy’s bedroom.<br/>
Neil’s car is parked, and Steve knows to stay away from <i>that</i> guy, but... he stops the car and listens. He hears the telltale sound of bangs and grunts, something breaks, Max’s voice screeches, and Steve, well. Steve doesn’t think much before jumping out of the car and rushing in the house.</p>
<hr/><p>Her mom is holding her away, hidden in the kitchen, but Max can hear everything. And she can guess their movements.<br/>
Neil is drunk, and angry.</p><p>“Where the fuck do they come from, huh? You walkin’ around to go buy fags, pretending to be stuck in bed so Susan acts like your fucking <i>servant</i>?!”</p><p>“No, sir!”</p><p>An impact. A whimper.</p><p>“Don’t use that tone with me, boy!”</p><p>Max isn’t used to hearing Billy whimper, and it’s not as satisfying as it should be.</p><p>“If you’re not getting them yourself, that means you’ve got a little friend, bringing you shit!”</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>Impact.</p><p>“Don’t lie to me you fucker! Think I’m stupid? Thought I wouldn’t notice? You smoke all fucking day, every day, and you haven’t run out? Where are they coming from?”</p><p>“They- I’ve been rationing them.”</p><p>“Rationing them?!”</p><p>Impact. Max struggles against her mother’s hold.</p><p>“He’s going to hurt him again,” she says, but her mother just shushes her.</p><p>Billy just stood up on his own two days ago.</p><p>“Boy thinks I’m stupid, boy allows people into <i>my home, without me knowing</i>, thinks I won’t notice! You think I don’t notice shit going missing in the kitchen?”</p><p>“Dad, nothing’s missing in the–“</p><p>“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”</p><p>Impact. Max thrashes in her mother’s hold and slips through her fingers. She rushes to Billy’s room.</p><p>She’s the one who’s been taking things from the kitchen.</p><p>“Stop it!” she yells.</p><p>Billy is sitting on the bed, his body as compact as he can make it. Neil towers in front of him. Susan is scrambling behind her to get her back.</p><p>“Maxine you stay out of this,” Neil barks.</p><p>“Yeah, fuck off, Max,” Billy spits, fear in his eyes.</p><p>Neil backhands him.</p><p>“Don’t fucking speak to your sister like that!”</p><p>A bit of blood falls from Billy’s mouth, onto his pillow.</p><p>“I got them!” Max lies frantically, in a last-ditch effort to stop Neil. “I got the cigarettes for him!”</p><p>“You asked your UNDERAGE–“</p><p>“No! He didn’t ask me, I did it for him, as a surprise!”</p><p>Neil’s hard look lands on her, terrifying despite its fogginess, then slips up to her her mom.</p><p>“Well then I trust your mother will take care of that.”</p><p>Susan nods quickly, her hand squeezing Max’s shoulder, and Max feels her body relax in relief, he’s gonna stop, he’s gonna stop hitting Billy–</p><p>“But you,” slurs Neil, turning back to his son, “shouldn’t‘ve let her!”</p><p>Billy ducks the hit, stands up, and stumbles, bumping into his desk and toppling an ashtray. It shatters, and Billy falls to the ground with a pained shout as his head hits his bed frame. Neil grips Billy’s broken arm hard to throw him back on the bed, and Billy stays limp though his eyes are open and fluttering. Max screeches as Neil raises a fist to resume the beating.</p><p>Their front door opens with a bang. Susan jumps and pulls Max further inside the room, away from the hallway, just in time for Steve Harrington to come barreling inside, his breath short.</p><p>For a second, time seems to freeze, as Steve is heading straight towards Neil, like a knight in shining armor.</p><p>Then Neil gets his gun out and shoots.</p>
<hr/><p>Billy hopes he’s dreaming. Hopes the slaps and punches, and his head hitting metal have knocked him out for good, because if not, Steve Harrington just died in front of him.</p><p>He can only stare at the blood, pooling on his floor, as Susan makes a racket, as Max runs away. As suddenly, policemen fill the room, including the sheriff, as his dad is bustled away between two cops. Doctors arrive, fuss over Steve, then take him, but the blood stays, the blood stays. Billy is finally taken as well, when someone realizes he’s not moving, he can’t understand words, can’t answer questions.</p><p>But the blood stays.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a headache. Jim Hopper’s wading through the paperwork. The involved parties are either in Hospital or in a holding cell, and it’s a fucking headache. Stand your ground applies, but so does self-defense. Or does it? Clearly there’s domestic abuse, but the daughter and the mother don’t tell the same story. Who attacked who? Was the shooting a necessity, because Steven was beating up Billy when Neil shot to protect himself and his family, like Mr. Hargrove keeps saying? Or was it the exact opposite, Steve rushing in to try and pry Billy from his father beating him up so bad it broke bones, like Max keeps repeating? Jim knows the girl, knows she has a strong moral sense of Right and Wrong, but she’s also shocked by the events, and a minor, and he doesn’t know if her testimony is worth much, if anything.</p><p>It’d be good if the Hargrove son woke up.<br/>
It’d be better if the Harrington kid did.</p><p>Mr. Harrington, local industrialist and close friend to mayor Larry Kline, really wants Mr. Hargrove behind bars for shooting his unarmed son. Up in arms about it. Making lots of noise, even threatening his position as the Sheriff if the investigation doesn’t go his way, which really doesn’t put him in Jim’s good books. He buries his face in his hands. A headache.</p><p>“Dad?”</p><p>Jim starts, and turns towards Eleven.</p><p>“Yes, kiddo?”</p><p>She’s quite good with words now. Jim knows she understands what happened here, although he’d rather she stay out of his police work. The girl’s been in enough peril for a lifetime.</p><p>“Steve is good, you know.”</p><p>That’s the other thing. Steven Harrington <i>is</i> good. He’d helped, with the monster bullshit, and he’s been hanging around with the kids, keeping an eye on them like Jim wishes he could.</p><p>“Yeah kid, I know.”</p><p>Jim makes to ruffle El’s hair, but she ducks out of the way and scowls at him slightly.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry, forgot. I won’t mess up your hair,” Jim smiles, lifting his hands up.</p><p>He glances back at the paperwork.</p><p>Steve being good doesn’t mean he didn’t illegally enter that house with the intent to attack Mr. Hargrove.</p><p>Frankly, Jim probably would’ve done the same.</p><p>“I’m on Steve’s side,” he tells Eleven, honestly. “I think Mr. Hargrove’s been hurting his son for a long, long time.”</p><p>Eleven nods.</p><p>“Max says,” she slowly explains, “her stepbrother is an ass, but Neil hits him too much.”</p><p>Jim sighs, and nods.</p><p>“All right kiddo. Thanks for telling me.”</p><p>It makes him wonder. Did anyone else, anywhere, any teacher for example, notice the abuse? And can he crack Susan Hargrove, if he plays it right?</p>
<hr/><p>“Oh, Steve!”</p><p>Nancy’s voice is choked, sounding close to how Jonathan feels. She turns and tucks her face against Jonathan’s chest, like she can’t bear the sight of Steve, pale, still, motionless, tubes stuffed deep in his mouth and nose and arms. But Jonathan can’t seem to look away.</p><p>He’s stable, they’ve been told. But no one knows when he’ll wake up. If he’ll wake up. His mother has allowed friends to come in, because she wants him surrounded with familiar voices, and she knows her absences make it so her voice isn’t one he hears all that often.</p><p>Nancy and Jonathan don’t have the heart to tell her they haven’t really been speaking with Steve lately.</p><p>His stillness is terrifying. Steve is usually always in motion, his hands fluttering as he speaks, his body shifting as he waits, his leg bouncing when he sits. His cheeks are usually pink, flustered from talking to Nancy, red from running around playing sports, glowing. This person, lying there, looks less and less like Steve the more Jonathan looks at him. Maybe because his sight is now blurred with tears.</p><p>He tries to breathe, and sobs instead, and Nancy looks up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.</p><p>He knows they’re both feeling the same guilt. They’ve been so wrapped up in each other, they’ve completely failed to pursue any potential friendship with Steven. And maybe if they had, he wouldn’t...</p><p>Nancy crushes Jonathan in a tight hug, and he holds her as they try to stop crying.</p><p>When finally they’ve calmed, Nancy is the one to take Jonathan’s hand and pull him next to her, standing close to Steve.</p><p>“Hey Steve,” she says softly, her voice steady. Jonathan doesn’t know how she does it. “It’s Nancy. You’re not doing so well right now, but don’t you worry. People are taking care of you. We’ll be here for you, okay?”</p><p>Jonathan clears his throat, but he has no words. Nancy squeezes his hand, and keeps talking. She tells Steve about their day, what happened in school. She tells him about Mike and the other kids, how they’ll come see him when he’s better. Jonathan listens.</p><p>Nancy is halfway through Dustin’s latest mishap, when the door opens, and a woman neither of them know enters. She looks at Steve, two angry red splotches of emotion on her cheekbones, and puts a hand to her mouth.</p><p>Nancy stops talking, and they both stare at her, a bit confused.</p><p>“Oh my God,” she mutters, and starts worrying at her necklace.</p><p>“I’m sorry ma’am,” finally says Jonathan. “Do you know Steve?”</p><p>She glances up at him, eyes wide and glassy, and shakes her head no.</p><p>“Then what–?”</p><p>Before Jonathan can voice his question, sheriff Hopper comes in, and holds the door open.</p><p>“Mrs. Hargrove, please step out of the room. You are not allowed in here.”</p><p>“I know, but I’ve just been to see Billy, and I wanted to know how his f–... how... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come, I’m leaving, I have to make supper...”</p><p>The woman’s voice is wet and wobbly as she answers, but one word the sheriff said keeps ringing in Jonathan’s ears.</p><p>Hargrove?</p><p>“Wait, your husband did this?” Jonathan snarls, suddenly besides himself. “He did this, and you come here?”</p><p>Nancy puts a hand on his arm, but she’s also glaring at the woman, who starts stammering.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I–”</p><p>“Steve shouldn’t have been shot,” Nancy states, her eyes hard.</p><p>The woman, despite her emotional state, puffs up a bit, a sad mimic of entitled outrage.</p><p>“Well that’s... He attacked–“</p><p>“If you don’t agree, then you have nothing to do in this room.”</p><p>Nancy’s tone is ice-cold, and the woman seems to shrink in front of her.</p><p>“Mrs. Hargrove, if you wouldn’t mind coming with me,” the sheriff prompts, and Neil Hargrove’s wife leaves, Hopper’s hand guiding her at the elbow.</p>
<hr/><p>Billy’s awake and he wishes he weren’t. It’s night, and he keeps his eyes closed, listening to the soft beeping of the machine at his side, and the silent shuffle of nurses walking in the hallway. He wishes he were asleep.</p><p>If he were asleep, he wouldn’t be in so much pain for one. He wouldn’t feel his arm, where the bone shifted from Neil’s manhandling, he wouldn’t feel his pounding head, from where he hit the bed frame, and got concussed. He wouldn’t feel his face. His back. His side. His legs.</p><p>And he wouldn’t feel all the emotional crap either.</p><p>Billy makes a conscious effort to unclench his jaw, which relieves some tension at least. But his throat is still tight, chest heavy, stomach in knots.<br/>
He is acutely aware of how much staying in hospital for so long will cost. He is also acutely aware that his father would have dragged him out days ago, and the fact that he hasn’t means he’s being detained. Susan is a fucking idiot for letting Billy stay in here so long. Neil is going to go ballistic.</p><p>And then there’s Steve. And Billy can’t afford to think about Steve, because every time he does, all he sees is blood, and his throat tightens, and it becomes impossible to breathe, and the nurses have to come in and give him something to calm him down, which makes it even more expensive probably.</p><p>But he never should have let Steve get close to him.<br/>
He knew better.<br/>
He knew better.</p><p>Tears leak from under Billy’s eyelids, and he would wipe at them angrily if moving didn’t hurt so damn much.</p><p>Now the boy he loves is dead.</p><p>And it’s his fault. Again.</p><p>
  <i>They’d met by chance, at a club. He was dancing, free and wild, and Billy felt lighter just looking at him. They saw each other for about five months. When Neil found out, he went batshit crazy. He’d never beaten Billy like that before, leaving him bloodied and broken. But that first time started a trend.<br/>
They moved the next day, uprooted so fast Billy’s cast had barely set.<br/>
Billy only discovered he was dead when he saw his name in passing, in the paper, in an article about gang violence in LA.<br/>
Except Benjamin wasn’t involved with the gangs, so it made no sense.<br/>
And his body had been found in their secret spot, the location of which Neil had pried from Billy’s bloodied mouth.<br/>
So Billy knew, really, who had done it. And that it was his fault. All of it, always, his fault.</i>
</p>
<hr/><p>It’s a white kid this time.</p><p>It won’t be like last time. People know he did it, in his own house. They won’t accuse some gang.</p><p>It’s even more imperative they move now. Leave Indiana. Maybe even leave the country.</p><p>Susan will lie for him, he’s certain of that at least. But he can’t count on Maxine, and he’s unsure about Billy.</p><p>The lawyer is talking, and Neil tries to listen. Stand your ground is his last chance, and he has to play it for all he’s worth. Play it like the attacker was deranged, was the one who beat Billy up. Play it like he was truly dangerous, play it like Neil wasn’t drunk enough that he can’t even remember the guy’s face.</p><p>How was he supposed to know Billy’s little friend wasn’t another of the trash kids no one cares about?</p><p>How was he supposed to know it was Hawkins’ golden boy?</p>
<hr/><p>“Hi.”</p><p>Billy turns his head with difficulty, surprised. He didn’t expect the squirt to visit.</p><p>“Hey,” he croaks.</p><p>Max sets down the bright pink-and-yellow bouquet she’s carrying.</p><p>“Mom made me bring these.”</p><p>Billy scoffs, and regrets it, wincing in pain. Fucking Susan and her fucking store-bought flowers. She fills the house with them, trying to make it warm and homely. Failing.</p><p>Max stays at a distance from the bed, and shoves her hands in her jean pockets. She rocks on her feet, just staring at him, which should make him seethe and snap at her, but he’s so, so tired.</p><p>“You really look like shit,” she says, and Billy closes his eyes. Doesn’t he know it.</p><p>He hopes she’ll just go away, Susan’s task completed, but she pulls up a chair and sits, leaning forwards, elbows resting on her legs.</p><p>“Neil’s in jail,” she says, softly. Billy feels a bit numb. “Mom is lying to the police to try and get him out. I fucking hate her.”</p><p>That makes Billy react a bit, and he scoffs again, a laugh this time, which doesn’t hurt any less.</p><p>“Welcome to the club,” he manages, and looks at her again.</p><p>She also looks pretty bad. Her hair is greasy, and her face pale and pinched.</p><p>“Did the police talk to you yet?” she asks, and Billy shakes his head a fraction.</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“To figure out what happened exactly.”</p><p>Billy snorts.</p><p>“Isn’t it obvious? No, really. Wasn’t the fucking dead body fucking obvious?”</p><p>Ah, there’s some of his bite. The words taste like bile, like acid, and the thick warmth of grief fills his eyes and nose and face, but at least there’s anger in his chest instead of pathetic pain.</p><p>Max frowns.</p><p>“Steve’s not dead,” she says bluntly, like she can’t believe this is news to him.</p><p>His heart stops. He feels nothing for a second, the information hitting him from the head down, washing over him like a splash. Then, searing hot pain mixed with absolute rage bloom in his chest, expanding, filling his lungs, making him push up and sit, despite his broken body.</p><p>“What.”</p><p>Max has stood up and taken some distance. She has good instincts, she sees danger, but she doesn’t deserve to be the target of his wrath.</p><p>“Where is he.”</p><p>“I’m... I think in room 305.”</p><p>“He’s fucking <i>here</i>?! In this hospital?!”</p><p>“He’s in a coma Billy, of course he’s in hospital!”</p><p>Billy doesn’t dignify that with a response. He stands up, and starts walking, ripping the tube out of his hand, unaware that his ass is hanging out from the flimsy hospital gown. The adrenaline rush is strong, but he knows deep inside that it won’t last long, and that he better hurry.</p><p>A chorus of panicked beeping goes off the second he’s disconnected from the monitoring machines, and when Billy flings the door open, he’s face-to-face with a concerned nurse.</p><p>“Mr. Hargrove, what are you doing?”</p><p>“Fuck off,” he growls, and shoves her. It’s weak, but she’s surprised enough to take a step back, and he plows through, in the corridor.</p><p>His head is swimming already, but he’s able to read the numbers on the doors he’s walking by. 402. 401. Great. Not the right floor.</p><p>He tries to keep walking, but things are getting more and more woozy. He makes it to the stairs before a male nurse catches him.</p><p>“Hey there buddy, let’s get you back in bed.”</p><p>Billy tries to shrug the hands from his shoulders, but they’re firm, and strong, and gentle, like Steve’s, and he leans into them hard, abruptly enough for the nurse to fumble, taken by surprise.</p><p>“I need to see him,” Billy states, still staring down the stairs, where Steve is somehow <i>alive</i>. “I need to see him, please!”</p><p>“You’re in no condition to be walking around. Let’s go back to your room, get you situated, and then you can have visitors, all right?”</p><p>The man starts leading Billy away, and he tries again to shake the hands off, but he must faint or something because the next thing he knows he’s in bed again, tubes back in place, and the sheriff is there, talking silently with a doctor.</p><p>“And you didn’t think that warranted a follow-up?”</p><p>Or not that silently. The sheriff seems pissed. Billy stays very still.</p>
<hr/><p>Dr. Bennett stays marble-faced at Jim Hopkin’s death glare.</p><p>“We had no reason to follow-up, the boy admitted to falling off a horse.”</p><p>“He —!”</p><p>Jim pinches the bridge of his nose, seething.</p><p>“Well this time we know that’s not what brought him here,” he whispers harshly.</p><p>He can’t fucking believe this doctor. This is textbook abuse 101. Dr. Bennett, still seemingly undisturbed by Jim’s glare, looks at the Hargrove boy, and a pleasant, professional smile appears on his face. Jim looks behind him. The boy’s eyes are open.</p><p>“Hello William,” Bennett greets pleasantly. “Your little stunt gave us quite a scare. The sheriff here would like to speak with you, if you are feeling up to it? I’m afraid he’s being very insistent.”</p><p>Billy Hargrove’s face has curved oh-so-slightly into an expression of dislike and distrust, and he glances rapidly from the doctor to Jim.</p><p>“I want to see Steve Harrington,” he states, clear despite the roughness of his voice.</p><p>“Mmyes, so I’ve been told,” Dr. Bennett smiles. “I’ll see what we can arrange, although I doubt Steven’s parents will be amenable.”</p><p>Billy’s jaw tenses.</p><p>“I’m sure they will, once the situation is cleared,” Jim states, with a hard look at Bennett. “Which is why I’d like to talk to Billy now. Alone.”</p><p>Dr. Bennett tilts his head in a slow nod, and makes his way out of the room.</p><p>Jim waits for the door to swing shut, then grabs a chair, and sits down in Billy’s eye-sight.</p><p>“Okay kid. I want you to tell me everything you remember.”</p>
<hr/><p>Neil’s lawyer is the one to tell him that his son’s testimony corroborates his adoptive daughter’s. Accusing him of abuse and assault, and attempted murder.</p><p>He tries to hide his anger, but his hands shake with the urge to hit someone.</p><p>At least Susan is on his side.</p>
<hr/><p>“Mom?”</p><p>Susan turns away from the stove she’s been needlessly scrubbing at, sponge held tight in her gloved hands, dripping slightly. Her daughter is standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, eyes hard.<br/>
The house has been so empty without the men.</p><p>“Not now Maxine, I’m busy cleaning.”</p><p>“Mom it’s important.”</p><p>Susan keeps scrubbing the same spot. She can’t seem to make her arm stop. Max walks up to her and gently pries the sponge away.</p><p>“Mom, you have to tell the police the truth, or you might be convicted too, for being an accomplice in an attempted murder.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, dear.”</p><p>“I’m not being silly.”</p><p>Max keeps talking, but Susan tunes her out, starts walking away, grabs a broom.</p><p>“Mom listen to me!” Max shouts, sounding desperate.</p><p>Tears start falling down Susan’s face.</p><p>“Why couldn’t you lie like I asked you to?” she chokes out.</p><p>Max stops trying to talk.</p><p>“You know we need him, you <i>know</i> how hard it is when I’m alone...”</p><p>“I know. I was there before you found Neil, but mom, it’s –“</p><p>“I can’t do it Max. I’m sorry but it’s true. I–“</p><p>“I’m older now! I could help you, get a part time job, and we have Billy still. He’s already secured a summer job, and–“</p><p>“We can’t keep this house. We’ll have to move again.”</p><p>“So we’ll move! He tried to kill my friend, mom! Neil’s going to jail, want it or not, and if you follow him there, or god forbid, take him back when he gets out...”</p><p>Susan sobs, loud and ugly, and Max stops yelling.</p><p>"I'm sorry mom, but that's how things are. It's Neil or me."</p><p>Susan looks at her daughter, wild-eyed, gutted. She can't believe her Maxine actually said that, and <i>means</i> it.</p><p>"Neil's always been good to you," she manages, voice wobbly.</p><p>It comes out accusatory, which she didn't intend. Max inhales sharply and turns on her heels.</p><p>"Maxine, wait, I..."</p><p>Max keeps walking until the front door closes behind her, and Susan brings a gloved closed fist up to her face. The rubber smells harsh, and the product residue is probably bad for her skin, but she doesn't care. She thinks about the conversation she had with sheriff Hopper.</p>
<hr/><p>The jingle of breaking news on the local radio channel pierces through the fog that clouds Steve’s mind.<br/>
The words make no sense at first, the presenter is speaking way too fast, her tone way too energetic.<br/>
He opens his eyes a sliver and the blurry box tucked up in a corner of the ceiling is a splotch of black against white, but the more he's awake, the more things start making sense again.</p><p>"... is pivotal in the state vs Harrington case. Earlier today, despite being seemingly terrified, she went to court with her teenage daughter who held her hand throughout the testimony. The accused, Neil Hargrove, displayed some aggression towards his wife, but was quickly contained. Local sheriff Jim Hopper gave no comment, but an undisclosed source tells us that the case is as good as closed with Susan Hargrove's testimony matching both the evidence, and the teen–"</p><p>Steve's attention slips. He blinks quickly, the world wavering in and out of focus. Was that news report about Max's mom? He looks around the room, a hospital room, his brain supplies. He wonders who got hurt. He sees Nancy and Jonathan huddled against each other, intently focused on the radio. He tries to say "hey Nance," and notices his mouth is stuffed with something that jams down his throat, so there's no way he can actually talk. The realization is twinged with fear, with memories of the Upside Down and vines that want to choke you and silence you and kill you and–</p>
<hr/><p>The monitors go crazy behind them, and Nancy turns around abruptly, eyes snapping to Steve.</p><p>"Steve!"</p><p>Steve is red in the face, practically choking despite the steady airflow they have strapped to his mouth and nose. But his eyes are open!</p><p>"Shit, Steve," Jonathan exclaims.</p><p>The door bursts open and two nurses enter the room, followed closely by the doctor, and Jonathan holds Nancy back so they can do their jobs and tend to their friend. She clamps her fingers around his forearms.</p><p>His eyes are open, she reminds herself. He's awake. He has to be fine because he's <i>awake</i>.</p>
<hr/><p>"Steve is awake," says Eleven suddenly.</p><p>Jim chokes on his eggo, and El has to thump his back hard for him to catch his breath. Once his throat isn't obstructed anymore, he grabs his hat and stands up.</p><p>"I'm going to see him immediately. You stay here."</p><p>El's face scrunches up in protest, ready to put up a fight, but–</p><p>"I'll have to ask him questions alone, so you probably wouldn't be allowed to see him anyway. Besides, there's a doctor there I don't trust one bit. Please stay here? For me?"</p><p>She's not happy about it, but she nods, and Jim knows she'll respect his wishes because he explained his reasoning. He's still not used to doing that but it's proving effective so far!</p><p>Jim jogs out the door and makes his way to the hospital in record time.</p>
<hr/><p>Billy's back at the house now. He doesn't really talk to Susan, but he did thank her for telling the truth, and there's a silent, tentative truce between the three of them. Max, Billy discovers, is funny and interesting now. She's grown up. She’s been growing up for a while, now. He just hadn’t ever thought to notice.<br/>
They're preparing dinner together – Billy chopping the best he can with one hand – when the landline rings.<br/>
Susan answers, then calls.</p><p>"Maxine!"</p><p>Max runs out, and Billy stays put, chopping dutifully, until his sister screams.</p><p>He starts going to her, knife still in hand, but she's already running back to the kitchen, tears in her eyes.</p><p>"What is it?" he growls, scanning the hallway behind her for any dangers.</p><p>Susan pokes her head into the hallway in time to hear Max's answer.</p><p>"Steve woke up! He's going to be okay!"</p><p>Billy's heart stops, then restarts. The knife clatters to the ground as he uselessly digs in his pocket to find the car keys that aren't there. Max is already gone and back, through Billy's room, at the front door, his keys dangling from her fingers.</p><p>"But Billy can't drive, his arm," Susan protests weakly.</p><p>"It's fine, I can drive, come on, let's go!" Max demands.</p><p>Susan splutters and tries to say that that isn't a possibility either, but both Billy and Max are out the door already.</p><p>"You better not damage my car, squirt," Billy snaps as he slides in the passenger seat.</p><p>He cant believe he's letting Max do this, but there's absolutely no way Susan's coming with them, and he can't change gears with his right arm in a cast from wrist to shoulder.</p><p>"I can drive, Billy. Kinda. Just hold on tight."</p><p>Billy starts changing his mind right then, but apparently Max has learned her driving style from him, because the car moves so abruptly Billy nearly bites his tongue in half, so he shuts up and holds on for dear life.</p>
<hr/><p>They all get to the hospital at the same time. Hopper gives Max a sharp look when he sees her step out of the driver's seat, with Billy looking decidedly green, and he points at her sternly.</p><p>"Don't do that again. It's dangerous."</p><p>Max feels a bit worried for all of two seconds, but she knows Hopper won’t arrest them for something like that.</p><p>"Remember I drove you away from the tunnels? Yeah, you're welcome, sheriff."<br/>
She smiles widely and scampers away.</p><p>Hopper scowls but follows in tow. Billy's already at the front desk, arguing with the receptionist who apparently doesn't want to let him through, but Hopper is quick to clamp his hand on Billy's shoulder and 'he's with me' their way into the hospital.</p><p>"The receptionist doesn't even know he's woken up," Billy growls. "Makes you wonder how fucked this place is."</p><p>Max and Hopper share a look. Billy doesn't know about El, her powers, and all that upside-down shit... Max hopes he won't get suspicious. She does not want to have to tell him monsters exist right after he just escaped one...</p><p>They get to room 305, Hopper stops Billy from just barging in, knocks, and <i>then</i> barges in, and they crowd inside the room.</p><p>It's full already. Steve is having a panic attack. Two nurses stand back as a doctor prepares a syringe. Nancy Wheeler is holding Steve's hand, trying to get him to breathe, and Jonathan Byers is holding her shoulders, visibly trying not to panic as well.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" the doctor snaps.</p><p>It's not Dr. Bennett, it's a harrowed-looking woman who keeps talking over Hopper’s reply, steel in her voice.</p><p>"We do <i>not</i> need any more people in this room, needlessly crowding the patient. Get out!"</p><p>Max starts obeying, because that's obviously a very good idea, but her brother isn't as amenable.</p><p>"Steve!"</p><p>"Come on kid, let's let him calm down," says Hopper.</p><p>Billy shrugs the sheriff's hand off his shoulder and stalks over to the bed, all but shoving the doctor out of his way.</p><p>She glares at Billy, then Hopper, but waves the sheriff away before he can grab Billy and cause any more chaos.</p><p>"Bi-Billy?"</p><p>She stops her preparations, and Hopper stops backing up slowly, and Max stops with her hand on the door handle, because that was Steve.</p><p>He's let go of Nancy, and has both hands clamped around one of Billy's and is staring hard, choppy breathing, reddened eyes, and all.</p><p>"Yeah I'm here, I'm fine. And you're fine. So calm down and stop being such a fucking drama queen."</p><p>Steve chokes out a surprised laugh, and the doctor steps back. As Steve’s breathing finally calms, she puts away the syringe, and the nurses leave the room.</p><p>“Steven just had a panic attack,” the doctor explains softly to them. Max knows Billy’s listening because he tilts his head towards them, eyes still glued to Steve. “He is going to feel exhausted and is going to sleep for a while. There can be up to four visitors in this room at one time, but while he rests, I’d recommend leaving him in peace.”</p><p>“I’m staying,” states Billy.</p><p>No one disputes him, but Nancy Wheeler grabs the second chair that’s in the room and sits on it decisively. Billy doesn’t even glance at her.</p><p>Slowly, everyone else trickles out the room, Jonathan Byers only leaving when Nancy gives him a silent go-ahead, and they make their way to the waiting room.</p>
<hr/><p>“I saw the news.”</p><p>Hargrove startles at Nancy’s voice, like he actually hadn’t realized she was staying, or like he didn’t think she’d talk to him. His eyes flicker to her for a second before going back to a sleeping Steve. He stays mum.</p><p>“I’m glad your mom changed her mind.”</p><p>“She’s not my mom,” he grits.</p><p>Nancy can tell she just misstepped, although it was an honest mistake.<br/>
She probably shouldn’t be speaking to Billy Hargrove. She doesn’t know anything about him, except from what she saw in school, which was that he’s a bully and a distasteful human being. Whom Steve apparently has somehow befriended.</p><p>“I don’t have to be grateful to her,” Hargrove mutters, almost growling.</p><p>It doesn’t sound like he’s speaking to Nancy, so she doesn’t reply.</p><p>Steve knows Hargrove well enough to be soothed by his presence. Steve knows Hargrove well enough to let go of Nancy’s hand like it doesn’t matter, and grip at Hargrove like he’s a life-line. Nancy’s brain feels like it’s smoking with how much that doesn’t make sense, doesn’t fit with what she knows happened, with Hargrove badly beating Steve up less than a year prior.<br/>
And yet, here is Billy Hargrove, looking at Steve like he’s the most precious thing in the world, hand resting impossibly gentle along Steve’s wrist, fingers fluttering in soft strokes.</p><p>And Nancy gets it then.</p><p>“Ah,” she whispers, and things start making sense.</p><p>Why Steve missed so much school. The rumors about a new girlfriend. Who he was actually seeing. Why he threw himself between Neil Hargrove and his son. It starts clicking, what might have happened, how Steve’s bleeding, kind heart could have reacted to a wounded, scared individual, desperately in need of support.</p><p>And how, once, late at night, long ago, when they were close, he’d confessed to Nancy that he found boys pretty too.</p><p>Nancy gets it. She stands up.</p><p>“You’ll take good care of him, right?” she asks, deliberately making the question vague, so it’s unclear if she means just now or forevermore.</p><p>Billy looks up at her then, and scans her face, intense. She stays impassible, but he must see something there, because he tenses, then relaxes, then nods once, curt.</p><p>“Yeah,” he rasps, then clears his throat aggressively.</p><p>“Good,” she says, and gives him a small, sad smile. “That makes you better than me already.”</p><p>He blinks, she nods, and she leaves.</p>
<hr/><p>When Steve opens his eyes, he sees Billy there, and can’t help but smile impossibly wide. Billy’s dozing off, eyes half-shut, and Steve squeezes his hand to rouse him.</p><p>“Hey,” he whispers.</p><p>Billy looks at his face, wide-eyed and surprised, like he can’t actually believe this, and chokes out:</p><p>“Steve!”</p><p>Before burying his face against Steve’s arm, the one place that won’t hurt.</p><p>“Hey, hey, I’m okay,” says Steve, voice shaky, and he gingerly reaches out to pet Billy’s hair with his other hand. “I’m okay. I feel great, actually. Feel like I could run a marathon. I could take you in a fight, right now, no how, and win with no problems.”</p><p>“Shut up,” says Billy, and he’s laughing, eyes still shining with tears as he lifts his head. “Oh my God, shut up. I’m so happy you’re alive, I can’t...”</p><p>Billy chokes again, and Steve uses both hands to cup the other boy’s face.</p><p>“Stop being such a drama queen,” he teases gently, and gives a small impulsion with his hands to bring Billy’s face towards his.</p><p>They kiss, and Steve feels Billy melt into it like he hasn’t ever before, and his head is fuzzy from meds, and his side hurts, and Billy’s cast doesn’t let him hold Steve back, and things aren’t perfect, but this, this. This moment is perfect.</p>
<hr/><p>There are questions and legal matters and statements and tears, but Billy is with Steve through it all, except when Hopper firmly but kindly gets him to leave the room so he can make sure Steve’s statement isn’t made under duress.</p><p>Steve’s statement comes in late, but it confirms Neil’s sentence, and is later used against him when he tries to appeal.</p><p>Susan Hargrove has to move, because she cannot sustain the cost of their house on her own. She and Max rent a small apartment, which Billy visits regularly, for Sunday lunches.</p><p>Billy finds a room to rent, which he pays for with his summer job as a lifeguard. He isn’t sure what he’ll do when the pool closes, but he’ll figure it out.</p><p>Steve, in recovery after getting shot, is still hounded by his dad to get a summer job, which he does, and works at the mall. He does make time to go to the pool regularly, though, and he and Billy spend most evenings together.<br/>
Parental pressure is on to find a job as soon as summer ends, or find a college that’ll accept him for the next school year, but Steve doesn’t know yet what he wants.<br/>
He doesn’t feel as anxious about it though, because he knows he’s not alone.</p><p>Of course, Steve and Billy have to hide their love when out in public. But a select few know the true nature of their relationship, and with them, they are free to be themselves.</p><p>The end</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!<br/>This fic has been years in the writing, because I procrastinate a lot, so I'm super happy it's out there now, and I hope you liked it!!!<br/>Please drop a comment to tell me what you think ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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